Adrianne Pieczonka and Lado Ataneli, by Cory Weaver/SF Opera. The last Tosca here was in 2004. Considering that Tosca is The Show That Build SFOpera, with 12 runs over in the first 18 years of the company, and since only twice in history has a Tosca black-out lasted more than five years, we were so due. Last night, the umpteenth run opened, and it proved why it's such a fan favorite: when it's done competently, it's as pleasing as it gets.
Now, don't get our word for it, and go get yourself a free ticket for the free Opera at the Ballpark! You can see, this Friday at 8pm, rain or shine, the opera on a giant hi-def screen while munching on garlic fries, in the retro-cute stadium that you did not know you subsidized.
If the recession will bring us more risk adverse workhorses, hopefully they'll be as good as this one. We loved the Angels & Demons-chic sets, inspired by the 1932 production. They had creepy Gothic down pat even back then.
Carlo Ventre (top) and Dale Travis (seating), picture by Cory Weaver courtesy of SF Opera. The principals's performances were stellar. We had a malevolent, Dr Evil-like impersonation of Scarpia by Lado Ataneli, in his company debut. He tortures, he corrupts, he rapes, he kills, and he fondles himself in church: couldn't they find a puppy for him to kick? He also sings, deeply and powerfully. He lusts after Adrianne Piecsonka's Tosca (in her SF debut as well), and who would not. She is passionate, committed, with a voice that you hear bright and clear in all the crannies of the opera house. She wobbled a bit at the start, but straightened the ship soon enough, to a high point in the famous vissi d'arte. Tosca hates Scarpia, and longs for Carlo Ventre's Cavaradossi. He caught a few deserved ovations, what with an elegant, burnished tenor which shone in e lucevan le stelle.
The conductor, Marco Armiliato, played Puccini for all the pathos he could find, bringing out all the syrupy out of the music, an appropriate match for the waffle ceiling of the Palazzo Farnese set. We have to give a shout out to Civic Center Mike, who shot the tenor without a hint of remorse as a supernumerary.
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